


Heart to Break

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-22
Updated: 2005-10-21
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:16:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: On Hermione's birthday she and Ron resolve the tension between them.





	1. Chapter the first

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Dusk had fallen at the Burrow. The last beams of fading sunlight glinted off the pond, and lightning bugs flitted across the backyard. Hermione was trying to behave normally, and knew she was failing miserably. It was her twenty first birthday. She was among friends, and she had a handsome date at her side. But Hermione was far from happy and this might well be the worst birthday of her life. She glanced down the table, watching Ron chat with Harry, and wondered if he was as miserable as she was.

"A knut for your thoughts, darling."

The sound of Robert's voice in her ear startled her and she forced a smile on her face before facing him.

"I was thinking about what a beautiful night it is," she said hoping he couldn't tell she was lying. Her eyes traced over his handsome face, and she desperately wished she could be in love with him instead of a certain stubborn red head. He was everything a woman could want: kind, sensitive, thoughtful, and intelligent. He respected her thoughts, they engaged in stimulating conversations, and they seemed perfect for each other in so many ways. She listened to Ron's laughter echoing through the night air. She was horribly ashamed when she realized that Robert just didn't complete her, and dismay filled her when she realized again that only one person could: Ron.

"Hermione," Robert whispered, "come with me for a moment." She almost recoiled when he took her hand, but meekly followed him away from the party guests. She could feel Ron's eyes boring into her back as she walked away, and she wondered what she'd see there if she turned about and looked back at him.

"Robert, what is it?" she asked, when he studied her, "Is something wrong?"

"I can't believe I didn't notice before tonight," he answered and she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes, "you love him don't you?" Their entire future was resting on her response, and she wondered if she had the courage to answer him.

"Love who?" Hermione said, and averted her eyes knowing he would find the truth there.

"Don't play dumb Hermione," he said, "you owe me the truth, and I deserve it."

She realized he was right. He did deserve the truth, he deserved someone who could love him whole-heartedly, and as much as she hated to admit it, that person wasn't her.

"You're right, I do owe you the truth," she answered softly, "Yes, I love him. I've loved him since I was eleven years old." She watched his shoulders slump with her words and grabbed his hands. "You deserve so much more than I could give you."

"I love you," he whispered bending his head to claim her lips gently, "but I also know you can't choose who you love."

"I'm sorry, Robert, so sorry," she said fighting the tears that threatened.

"I know you are, love," he said, "I guess this is goodbye. I hope he knows how lucky he is." He kissed her cheek, and then lifted his wand to disapparate, and with a pop he was gone.

Hermione stared at the spot where Robert had stood. She didn't hear the footsteps approaching from behind, and she jumped when a hand fell on her shoulder.

"Are you skipping out on your party?" Ron asked.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed, "Why would you even ask that?" She rounded on him, and was surprised to see anger in his every feature.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," he spat out, "I saw the two of you snogging. I bet you just can't wait to get home and shag him."

"Damn it, Ron!" she exclaimed, her eyes welling with tears, "You don't know me at all, do you? You have no bloody idea what just happened here!" With that she tore off across the grass, and into the trees at the edge of the property.

Hermione's breath came in sharp gasps, sobs racked her body, and she looked around desperately for a place to hide. She was surprised to find a ladder dangling from a tree limb in front of her and her eyes followed the rungs upward, where to her relief there was a tree house. It was perfect, he knew she hated heights, and he'd never suspect she'd climb up there to hide. She ascended the ladder quickly and tears fresh tears flowed down her face when she reached the top. He would follow her, he always did after one of their rows, and for once she didn't have the strength to fight with him. She collapsed onto a pile of dusty cushions, and sobbed silently into her hands. She felt ripped in two, she couldn't keep pretending that all she felt for him was friendship, and it was time to make him choose.

Her mind drifted back to the end of seventh year when she asked him if there was something between them. It had been a night of celebration; the defeat of Voldemort, their triumphant return with a very alive Harry, and her joy at just being alive had given her the courage to seek Ron out. She had snuck into the boys dormitory and shaken him awake.

"Ron," she had whispered, "I need to talk to you." He had nodded blearily and gotten out of bed.

They made their way silently to the common room, and Hermione's heart felt like it might burst right from her chest.

"What is it, Hermione? I was sleeping for the first time in days."

"I wanted to tell you," she had answered, "I mean ask you something."

"Alright, what is so bloody important that it can't wait until morning?" He sat down a chair next to the dying fire, and rubbed his eyes.

"I need to know, Ron," she whispered, "Is there something between us?" She tried to catch his eyes in the dim light of the common, but he looked away.

She wasn't sure how long she waited for a response. As the minutes passed, she felt her heart breaking, and she fought back the tears that welled in her eyes.

"All right then," she had whispered, "I guess that's my answer."

She had dashed up the steps, leaving him sitting alone in the common room, and the next morning she acted as though nothing had happened. Things went back to the way they always had been, and it just wasn't enough.

She was so lost in the past that she didn't notice when he entered the tree house, and sat down beside her.

"Hermione," he said and handed her a handkerchief, "I'm sorry, so bloody sorry."

"Please don't... Ron," she said softly, "why do you do this? You hurt me and then think you can make everything alright by saying you're sorry."

They stared at each other and she waited for him to say something, anything.

"I'm going to ask you the same question I asked you four years ago - is there something between us?" she said softly staring at him intently, waiting for a response. The minutes ticked by and her frustration mounted.

"Answer me, Ron!"

She slammed her hand down on the cushion causing a cloud of dust to drift through the air, "I deserve an answer, I have been your friend for ten years, and it seems like speaking to me is the least that you could do." Her voice grew louder as she continued, "I've tried to convince myself I'm not in love with you, I've tried to stop loving you, but there's always this thing between us." She gestured with her hands between them, staring up at him in disbelief, and wondered if he'd suddenly become mute.

He simply sat beside her, avoiding her eyes, and Hermione felt the thin control she had over her anger snap.

"Damn you, Ron Weasley!" She was furious. "I can't go on this way. We need to settle this once and for all so that I can let you go."

"Let me go?" he asked, speaking for the first time since he handed her the handkerchief. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't just be your friend - it's too hard," she whispered touching his arm lightly.

"You're going to end our friendship?"

She watched the tips of his ears grow red, he clenched his fists at his sides, and when their eyes met she could read the anger and betrayal no longer hidden behind the mask that he wore.

"You would end a friendship of ten years because I won't answer a question that you should never have asked?" he asked.

"Ron, your friendship means more to me than I can even say," her voice rose in anger. "So be a friend; tell me to move on, get married, have children! Tell me you don't love me, that you could never love me that way. Tell me it doesn't bother you to think of me making a life with someone!"

"I can't," he said looking absolutely furious, "I can't tell you any of that!"

"Why not, Ron?"

Their eyes met and Hermione saw something in them change. The anger they held was still there but she could read desire there too. She didn't have time to question him because he had grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.

"You want to know why?" he said, and his ragged breathing was the only sound in the room. "Because of this." His lips claimed hers, forcing them apart, and Hermione whimpered at the onslaught of desire coursing through her body.


	2. Chapter the second

Ron lowered his six foot four inch frame into a chair next to Harry and sighed heavily.

He muttered a brief greeting to Harry and stared out over the backyard of the Burrow. He just wanted this evening to be over with; he was growing increasingly agitated watching Hermione sitting there, holding hands with that stupid git she was going around with. Every time the bloke touched her, Ron felt another wave of anger shoot through his system. He wanted to pummel him, and make certain that Robert knew that Hermione was his. He took a long swig of mead, hoping to squelch the anger that festered in the pit of his stomach, and cursed under his breath. It was supposed to be a family celebration and Robert wasn't family. He hadn't even been able to give Hermione her birthday present. He spent weeks searching for the perfect gift and finally found a thin silver necklace adorned with a heart shaped locket, and he had charmed a picture to fit inside it. He had thought that perhaps today would be the day when he finally worked up the courage to tell her how he felt; however, Robert had Apparated into the backyard before he had the chance.

He stared down the table, watching the fading sunlight dance over her curls, and he took a sharp breath. He was mesmerized by her: the way her hair curled down her back, the creamy skin of her neck, and her lips that he longed to taste.

"Mate, you need to tell her how you feel," Harry said under his breath.

"I should tell who how I feel?" he asked, gazing nervously down the table.

"Don't leave it too long, Ron," Harry's voice was low and held an urgent quality to it, "I almost lost Ginny because I was too daft to tell her how I felt about her."

"Harry, you've had Ginny's heart since she was ten years old." Ron looked down the table, unnerved to see Hermione rising to follow Robert away from the crowd. "It's not the same with me and Hermione."

"Do you love her?" Harry asked.

Ron didn't hear Harry's question, he was watching Robert and Hermione talking earnestly, and he felt his temper rise when he saw them kiss.

"She's leaving with that git," Ron growled. "I can't believe she'd skip out on her own party." Ron stood up, knocking the chair over as he stalked off across the grass. He didn't even stop to question what Harry meant when he called out, "Never mind, I got my answer."

He reached Hermione and realized he was desperate to hurt her, the way she was hurting him, and the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. The image of her kissing that Nancy boy just was too much.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," he spat out, "I saw the two of you snogging, I bet you just can't wait to get home and shag him." The minute the words left his lips he regretted them. He saw her eyes fill with tears before she took off across the backyard.

He stuck his hand in his pocket, feeling the small box containing the necklace, and took off at a trot to find her. He burst into the grove of trees, his eyes searching for her, and that's when he heard great gulping sobs coming from above him. He'd done it again, he meant to tell her he loved her, and instead all his words came out as insults. Sighing heavily, he climbed the ladder up into the tree house preparing himself to grovel.

His heart broke when he saw her; she was sitting on the dusty cushions, crying because of him. He was tired of fighting, tired of being angry, and tired of constantly living in a state of denial about his feelings for her. He offered up his standard apology, wanting to ease the tension between them when she asked him just as she had done four years ago how he felt. His mind went on defensive mode, he sat there quietly, and he saw the hurt and anger well in her eyes. He was startled when she burst into a loud curse for the second time that evening, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Damn you, Ron Weasley!" She was furious. "I can't go on this way. We need to settle this once and for all so that I can let you go."

Ron felt fear down to the bottom of his soul; he could lose her, and so he forced words out of his mouth. "Let me go?" he asked, speaking for the first time since he handed her the handkerchief. "What do you mean?"

Electricity shot through his body at the touch of her hand on his arm. A roaring sound filled his head when she implied she was going to end their friendship. It was as though his soul cried out, and he felt betrayal slice through him. She shouldn't have asked him if there was something between them. She was trying to force him to say the words, and it wasn't fair. He wanted to do this on his terms, in his own way, and his body almost shuddered with her next words.

"Ron, your friendship means more to me than I can even say," her voice had risen in anger, "So be a friend - tell me to move on, get married, have children! Tell me you don't love me, that you could never love me that way. Tell me it doesn't bother you to think of me making a life with someone!"

He was assaulted by images of Hermione sharing her life with someone else. He couldn't tell her any of that because he was the one she should spend her life with; he was the one who should make love to her, father her children, and he should be the last person she saw before she drifted to sleep and the first thing she saw when she awoke. He couldn't take anymore, he had to show her, and a desperate need shot through his body.

He spoke the words roughly and let some of his fury escape into his voice. "I can't," he said, looking absolutely furious. "I can't tell you any of that!"

He was surprised she had to ask, she had always been smarter than average, and he tried to convey how he felt by looking intently into her eyes. He grew more frustrated by the second, still imagining Hermione building a life without him, and his control snapped.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, his body trembled as her scent surrounded him, and he relished her soft curves pressed against him.

"You want to know why?" his said, and his ragged breathing was the only sound in the room. "Because of this." He claimed her lips, parting them with his, and he wondered if Fred and George had set off fireworks back at the Burrow. Fire raced through his body. He heard her whimper softly, and answered with a low moan before deepening the kiss.


	3. Chapter the first

Hermione's senses were overwhelmed. She wasn't innocent, but nothing in her twenty-one years had prepared her for the feeling of Ron's lips devouring hers. She fell back on to the cushion, pulling him on top of her. She trailed her fingers up and down the hard muscles of his back. He was trembling above her and she wondered what it would take to snap that tight control he had over himself. 

 

She gave a low moan of protest when his lips left hers and she forced her eyes open. She was surprised to find him staring intently down at her, his eyes darting from her eyes to her lips, and she felt hot under his gaze. 

 

"Hermione," he whispered, "I shouldn't have done that."

 

Hermione felt her heart break. He was denying her again, and she pushed him away angrily. She stood and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find a bit of comfort, and she shook her head sadly. 

"You're still going to deny it?" she asked, her voice low with hurt. 

"No," he replied. "Hermione, turn around and look at me." 

She wasn't about to turn around and let him see he was breaking her heart. She made a move towards the ladder,  
"How can you kiss me like that then say you regret it?" she whispered.

Each step she took was harder, and she knew this time when she left it would be for good. 

"I don't regret it," he whispered. "I regret not telling you four years ago how I felt." 

Hermione turned about in surprise. She stared at him in disbelief, and dropped her hands to her hips. 

"That night you came to me Hermione, I was terrified," he said quietly. "I loved you so much but I was so afraid that I'd lose you as a friend that I just sat there and let my silence be my defense." 

Hermione's eyes welled with tears. So much time had been wasted, and she closed the distance between them. She raised a hesitant hand to his cheek, cupping it, and he leaned into her touch. 

"Do you still love me?" she asked softly and held her breath. 

"Yes, with every fiber of my being. You're my world, please don't leave me." 

"Ron, look at me," she said and his eyes slid open. "I've loved you since I was a little girl. I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to. You're burned into my soul. You're my other half, and I couldn't survive this life without you." 

Her softly spoken words seemed to free him, and he pulled her to him whispering before his mouth claimed hers, "I love you Hermione." 

This kiss was different from the last; it was full of tenderness and respect. She slid her hand behind his head and entangled her fingers in his hair. His tongue darted across her lips, requesting entrance, and she readily gave it. 

 

~ 

The last of Ron's carefully laid defenses crumbled away as he deepened the kiss. He was left with only the burning desire to make her his, and he pulled her more firmly against him. He marveled at the soft curves and the low moan she released as his hands brushed along her sides. 

"I want you, Hermione," he whispered, breaking their kiss to trail his mouth to her ear. "Tell me you want me here and now." He felt her tremble as his tongue traced the shell of her ear. "Let me make love to you." 

"Yes, here and now. I've waited so long, Ron." 

His body was on fire as she slid her hands along the bottom of the t-shirt he wore and began tugging it up. He pulled away and raised his arms to allow its removal, and a delicious fire spread through him when her hands traced the muscles along his chest. 

His hands flew to her blouse, trying to work the buttons free, but he finally gave up and pulled it in two. He wanted to feel her skin against his, he had been dreaming of it since he was fourteen, and he couldn't wait another moment. He pushed her blouse off and made quick work of her bra. He pulled her against him, feeling her hard nipples brushing against his chest; it was almost more than he could stand. He slid his hand along the underside of her thigh, and lifted her leg so he could press his aching erection against her. 

He was fighting the urge to rip her knickers from her body, so that he could plunge inside her over and over. Her mouth was hot against his, her tongue was sliding along his, and he moaned when her hands slid to his arse to pull him closer. 

"Hermione," he growled and thrust his hips against her, "Cushion, lie down on the cushions." 

He walked her backwards towards them, and his hands found the zipper on the back of her skirt. She stepped out of her shoes and allowed the skirt to pool at her ankles before stepping out of it. 

Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket, pointed it at the cushions and whispered, "Scourgify." 

 

She took his hand and pulled him down to the pillows. He settled on top of her, and moaned deep in his throat when she claimed his lips in a fierce kiss. He pushed his erection against her center and was rewarded with a soft cry of pleasure. He moved off to her side, he slid one hand down her neck, across her breast pausing to tease her nipple with his thumb. He watched as her eyes slid close and gloried in the soft mewing whimpers spilling from her lips. 

"Please, I need more," she whispered, her voice trailed off to a moan as his tongue traced the same path as his hand. 

She cried out when his lips closed around her nipple, teasing it to a hard point before sliding his tongue to her other breast. 

"So beautiful..." he murmured as his mouth descended down her stomach, and his hands slid under the elastic of her knickers. "I want to taste you." 

He heard the low moan that escaped as her head fell back. His hands brushed the inside of her thighs as he drew her knickers down her legs, and he smiled when her legs fell open for him. He slid his hand along her calf, slowly up her thighs, and her eyes flew open as he ran a finger through her folds. 

"Oh God," she breathed when he blew gently on her folds before sliding his tongue along them, caressing her clit with just the tip. He looked up to find a slightly wild look in Hermione's eyes, and her breath came in ragged gasps. 

"I'm going to make you come, Hermione," he whispered, instinctively knowing his words would drive her to the edge.

He was rewarded when he heard his name whispered from her lips. He lowered his head, tasting her, savoring her scent, and he let his tongue tease across her clit. He concentrated there for a moment before sliding a finger inside of her. Her back bowed immediately when his lips closed around her, and he felt her shuddering and heard her chanting his name over and over. 

He continued to taste her, hardening with each of her desperate cries until her breathing steadied. "I need to be inside you," he whispered, "I want to feel you around me." 

 

He slid his body over hers and claimed her lips again. He groaned as her hand worked its way between them, and began tracing the length of his erection. She cupped him and he thrust blindly against her hand.   
With a desperate moan he pulled away and removed his trousers and boxers. 

"You're beautiful Ron," she whispered hoarsely. He could see the desire, the barely contained feral need that was a mirror of his own in her eyes.

He let out a strangled cry as she pulled him over her, wrapping her legs around his waist, and it was then he could feel her heat and wetness. He thrust his hips forward slowly, feeling her muscles clench around him, and he let loose with a growl. 

"Ron," she breathed her eyes meeting his, "I love you." 

He bent his head to capture her lips, in a tender kiss, and pulled his hips back slightly. Her eyes slid shut. 

"Open your eyes." He said, thrusting his hips forward again, and she complied. 

Their eyes locked. His hands flew to hers and he pulled them above her head, allowing him to feel her fully against him. He plunged in and out slowly, savoring her heat, and tried desperately to keep himself in check. 

"Harder..." her voice trailed off into a sharp cry as he complied and began pounding his hips against hers. 

He was so close but he wanted her with him, he changed the angle of his thrust until he found the spot that sent her plunging into oblivion. He felt her muscles tighten about him, and their eyes bore into each other's. She screamed his name. Her body shuddered as she came, and his release followed. He allowed his release to flow over him, thrusting his hips erratically against her, and then finally he spilled into her. 

 

They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and the sounds of their rapid breathing filled the tree house. 

"That was amazing," she whispered kissing his forehead, "I've never felt like that before." 

"It was like heaven," he whispered pulling out of her. He turned and reached for his discarded trousers. "I never gave you your birthday present." 

"Ron, I thought that was my birthday present."   
He chuckled and pulled a box from his pocket. "This took me forever to find." 

Hermione eagerly unwrapped the box and Ron held his breath as she flipped open the lid. 

"Oh Ron, it's beautiful." She pulled the locket from the box and turned it over in her hand. 

"Open it," he whispered nervously. He could feel the butterflies dancing in his stomach. 

He was still a bit frightened, despite what had transpired, and watched her slowly slide it open. 

"Oh Ron." Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the picture of the two of them from first year. 

"I was going to gather my courage to tell you tonight," he whispered taking her chin in his hand he placed a kiss on her lips. After a moment he pulled away and wiped the tears that fell unheeded down her face. 

"I choose to be with you," he whispered softly. "You can have this heart to break."


End file.
